


Baseball

by PostApocolypticAlien



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostApocolypticAlien/pseuds/PostApocolypticAlien
Summary: After baseball practice, Emily confesses something to Mulder





	Baseball

**Author's Note:**

> Round of applause for the title of this- so much thought went into it clearly. Idk what this is and I wrote it a while ago and proceeded to forget about it until now so here it is. Hope you like it :)

He’d never put much thought into Emily playing baseball. It was just something she did, a topic Scully brought up now and then to keep conversations flowing, something she’d grow out of when she turned into a teenager; make-up brushes would replace mitts, curlers replace helmets. Baseball was just there to occupy a ten-year-old and give Scully two and a half hours child-free.

But watching the kid play, Mulder’s surprised at just how good she is. Without doubt, each time it’s her chance to bat, it connects, the force sending the ball flying. A blur of strawberry-blonde braids fly behind her as she runs as fast as she can, stopping only when she knows she can’t make the next base. 

He cheers when she gets her first homerun and Emily doesn’t hide the big teeth-showing smile at her achievement.

It’s only a practice but still she takes it seriously. Her brow knits together, not unlike the one he’s saw on Scully’s face time and time again, in concentration. Tongue sticking out as she centres herself, preparing again and again.

He takes her to McDonalds afterwards as a celebration and Emily’s eyes widen at the giant yellow M that looms above them.

“Mom never takes me here,” she tells him. “She says it’s full of nasty stuff.”

Mulder chuckles, having probably heard a similar lecture one time or another.

“Well, it’s usually the nasty stuff that tastes the best,” he answers and Em scrunches her face up in disgust. “Sometimes,” he adds. “Don’t worry. I’ll be our little secret.” And the disgust turns into a smile.

He lets her order whatever she likes deciding he’ll deal with Scully’s protests later. The rules can be loosened when it’s just him and Em, he thinks.

Emily pigs out, asks for a BigMac, a milkshake, nuggets. Mulder did have to say no when she asked for a McFlurry as well knowing the last thing Scully wanted to deal with was a pukey ten-year-old all night, or worse, a kid high on a sugar-rush because she’d never had so much sugar in a short space of time.

They find a table shortly after collection and Emily’s feet bounce energetically against the booth’s seat as she eats.

“You did really well today, Em,” he tells her a while after he’s finished his own food.

Emily shrugs, proceeding to swallow her food before she talks- another of Scully’s rules.

“It was just practice, nothing special,” the kid writes off.  
Mulder smiles, “Well, if that’s how you play when you practice, I’d love to see how you play when it’s for real.” 

They grow silent again after a small smile from Em and Mulder doesn’t ignore the way her demeanour changes, how her feet stop bouncing as she mumbles into her half-eaten burger.

“It was nice having somebody watching.”

Mulder leans closer across the table, watching as Emily’s eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but at him.

“Scully has never seen you play baseball?” he asks, surprised, wanting to know more.

“She watches my actual games but she never sticks around for practice,” Emily says, putting the burger back into the box. Her hands fidget and she looks down at them. “I want her to watch sometimes. I want her to see me get better. The actual games is good and all but I’m always at my best when I’m playing against another team. I want her to see me get better, and cheer when I get my first homerun, like you did.” 

Her eyes meet his then, and Mulder is struck by how much wanting and wishing stares back at him. His chest tightens as he’s reminded of a little boy not much older than Emily wishing the same thing. Scully is nothing alike his own parents- she cares and will never shut out or blame Emily for anything- but he can’t ignore the likeness, can’t ignore that familiar look he saw in himself once.

So he offers a small smile and a promise that he’ll talk to Scully.

It’s just past 11pm when he gets her home. She’s tired from practice, full up from the food she just ate and is almost falling asleep in the car. She livens up when she realises she’s home and runs up the stairs to ring the buzzer. Mulder’s behind her, praying that the sugar hasn’t chosen this moment to kick in.

The door is unlocked and the two of them make their way to Scully’s apartment.

He’s met with an unamused Scully waiting on the other side of the door. A knowing glance from her watch to Emily as the girl wanders into her home and all Mulder can give her is a shrug and a sheepish apology in the form of an awkward smile.

“Has she eaten or am I going to have to cook her something?” 

Emily makes eye contact with him from the kitchen looking like a deer caught in headlights with a carton of milk between her hands.

Mulder once again offers a shrug and awkward smile as he tells her he took her to McDonalds.  
“Hopefully she’ll fall into a sugar coma for the night,” Scully deadpans as she proceeds to empty the contents of Emily’s bag and Emily, knowing better than to ask to stay up longer, drinks her milk and slinks off to her bedroom.

Mulder watches her go, her confession still gnawing at his chest, trying to find a way to approach the subject with Scully. Throughout the drive he tried coming up with the right opening sentence, the best way to lead into this conversation without sounding like an ass trying to tell a mother how to mother.

“How was she?” Scully asks, folding the last of Emily’s things away.

“She was good. Er, she was happy I was there.”

“You stayed?” If she tried to hide her surprise, she failed.

“Er, yeah,” Mulder answers, his gut now tightening along with his chest. “I didn’t have anything better to do so I thought…”

Scully nods, understanding. Or maybe not understanding because she always has something better to do.

He winces at that thought, steering his mind away from the negativity. He needs to be strategic about this, he thinks.

Scully potters around, moving this and that for some unnecessary reason and Mulder follows like a big oversized puppy after food.

“Is there something you want, Mulder?” she asks, turning around and sounding fed up with him being there.

Mulder takes a deep breath. Knowing his options he could either say no and leave or talk to her. His mind is more towards the first option until he remembers the wishful look in Emily’s eyes and it stings. He promised her.

So with a deep breath and putting everything on the line, he tells her.

“Yeah, actually. Em told me something. Something I think you should know.”

“Go on…” she prompts.

It’s strange. If this was a theory he’d be 100% confident, even if she was just going to throw something logical back into his face, he’d take it and stay standing, fighting his corner. With this, everything’s so jagged and sharp. He’s walking a tight-rope and could fall any minute.

“She wishes you stayed at her practices.” It comes out as one breath, a tiny sentence filled with so much caution and worry. A sentence that could make or break him.

“I go to her games,” Scully levels.

He feels the walls pop up, one after the other, an invisible block separating him and pushing him further away.

“I know,” he answers, trying to keep things together, trying to fight against the force that’s pushing at him. “It just isn’t enough for her. She says that she’ll always do well in the games but it’s the practices were she feels she improves the most, where she tries her hardest because she isn’t batting against a team of girls she doesn’t know, she’s batting against her team and she wants you there to see it.” He adds that bit on but knows it’s true, heard it in her confession because it was the same thing he used to say to his parents. 

“She did really well today, Scully, and she was so proud of herself. She got a homerun and even though she tried to write it off, she glowed for the rest of the practice.”

He watches Scully ponder it, weighing up the evidence not unlike when she’s trying to decide whether one of his theories is plausible or not.

Finally, she comes to a decision.

“I’ll talk to Emily about it tomorrow,” she tells him. “but you should probably go, it’s getting late.”   
With that, she leaves, disappearing off into the kitchen out of his view. Mulder knows he’s outstayed his stay and as he leaves he looks towards the door to Emily’s room, silently telling her that he tried.


End file.
